
It may seem daunting
Like everything is dark
Everything is dismal
Pulling you in deep
Imprisoned in a dungeon
Certainty is dead
And time delayed
Tired and disturbed
Nothing feels doable
Toxicity fully draining
Looming residual danger
Nothing seems digestible
But it’s just a moment
In a life of a million moments
You may not be happy now
But tommorrow brings hope
A new dimension
No longer destroyed
A new day
An improved internal dialogue
Hold on tight to the doorknob
Remind yourself to do
The hideous moment diluted
Can be surpassed and dominated
There can be hope and diamonds
There will be a new dynamic
Can you give me your hand now?

Categories: Culture, death, identity, mental health, Poetry, Psychology, women





Hmm, what can I get on mine to have such a snarky smile?…. I know I’ve just the SHOCKER! (Soap)
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